


Stuck Like Glue

by lizook12



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, family fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2549825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the hell is he going to get it off before Felicity gets home?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck Like Glue

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to **itsalwaysfour** for the initial suggestion and **effie214** for the read through. 
> 
> Title from the Suglarland song of the same name.

“No, we ‘cided...” She crosses her arms over her chest, furrows her little brow. “On a pumpkin and ghost for mom’s office.” 

Oliver grins, tries not to laugh at the stubborn look in his four-year-old’s eyes. 

He’s still not positive if she got it from him or her headstrong, passionate mother. 

He finds he doesn’t care much.

“Ok, ok, I stand corrected; the popsicle witch is out.”

“Good.” She scoots up on her knees, leans across the counter. “I’m gonna do the pumpkin.”

“But I wanted the pumpkin.” He finishes spreading out their supplies, rights the glue sticks before picking up some popsicle sticks. “I was going to give it a crazy jack-o'-lantern mouth and silly eyes.”

“Daaaaad, I’ve got it.” 

“Of course you do.” 

Her arms fly into the air in triumph and this time he does laugh, dimples appearing as he grabs a permanent marker and they start to work. 

Sketches of faces pile up, newspaper crinkling as they pick and choose supplies, fake fight over the glue stick. 

The black paint. 

Emma’s toe taps against her seat, her blond curls falling over her forehead as she glances at the paper he’s working from and—

“That’s not a good face!” 

He gasps, ducks his head and lifts an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with it? It’s going to be a happy ghost...” 

“Ghosts are ‘posed to be scary!” 

“Well, I don’t want Mom to be afraid every time she works at her computer.” 

“She won’t be!” Waving a stick of glue at him, she huffs out a breath. “She’s brave. She didn’t hide during _Sleeping Beauty_ like _you_ did!” 

“That was a big dragon!” 

“Mhmm.” 

She shakes her head in such a Felicity-like way that the faux indignation on his face quickly spreads into a grin. 

Sometimes it strikes him just how luck—

He groans, eyes pressing closed as he counts to five. 

Maybe when he opens them again it’ll magically be gone. 

No such luck. 

Somehow, in being so focused on Emma and what she’s doing with her popsicles, he’s managed to glue one to his hand. 

It has not escaped his daughter’s notice. 

She’s laughing, her shoulders shaking as her eyes dart from his hand to the uncapped glue and back again. 

“...hafta become a nurse, Dad.” Her eyebrows lift, mouth forming a perfect O for a moment as something else occurs to her. “Oh! Oh! Or you could buy an ice cream truck.”  

“Would I need to wear one of those funny hats?” 

“And drive a van or...” 

He nods, exhales roughly as he tries to pull the stick away from his skin and fails. 

How the hell is he going to get it off before Felicity gets home?! 

The minute he thinks it, he knows, can almost sense it: she’s already there. 

Sure enough, not a second later, the front door closes, her keys dropping to catch-all bowl in the foyer. 

Frantically, he starts trying anything. 

Emma pulls on it. 

He runs it under hot water, yelping and making a mental note to check what their hot water heater is set at. 

Tries to create a fulcrum by closing it in a drawer and—

Felicity walks in, her loose ponytail coming undone as she shrugs out of her cardigan. 

Slowly, carefully, he lifts his hand, hiding it from her view. 

“What is going on in here?” She presses her lips together, pretending not to notice as she bends over Emma’s work. “What are you making?” 

“Ghosts and pumpkins for your office. The glue hasta dry before we can paint them.” 

“Oooo, that’s pretty fast drying glue though.” 

She forces back the giggles threatening to overtake her, definitely does not look in his direction though she can sense him trying not to yell out in pain as he attempts to pry the popsicle stick free. 

Stepping closer, she allows their daughter to distract her with her pumpkin plans (“Maybe I’ll put glitter on the stem!”) until she catches him eying the silverware drawer. 

It’s too much. 

“Alright, enough, come here.” 

“You knew?” He sighs, runs his free hand through his hair. “Of course you did...” 

“Yes, my husband suddenly having an extra finger is pretty noticeable.” Crossing to him, she turns back to Emma. “Can you go get the nail polish remover?” 

The little girl nods and hops down off her stool, sprinting down the hall, clearly on a mission. 

“Don’t...” The corner of her mouth lifts as she turns back to him, gently cupping his hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll save you.” 

Leaning his forehead against hers, he smiles softly. “Always do.” 


End file.
